“Be cautious, Jal,” Adrian said just before the urchin-mage discorporated, “I can't pick it up exactly, but this place seems to pulse with magic. I don't like it when I don't know what's happening...”

Even as he entered wraithform and his physical senses dulled, Jal offered the other mage a strange smile and a nod…Well wishes now, is it? Very well, Valentine, perhaps, when it matters, you’re not so self-centered as it would appear… What?!?
He hadn’t cast this spell a great deal… in fact, Jal had only bound the formula a few months ago… but, as soon as his form shifted, he knew there was something different and somehow…wrong… about the way it felt this time. It was as if a whirling zephyr urged his phantasmal state upwards…summoning him to a higher point in the tower… pulling him… Jal fought the urge to let himself succumb to that wind (even though he wasn’t sure he would be able to resist for long) and tried to focus on the task at hand. He drifted forward, then, and passed through a narrow space between door slab and jamb.

No guards, Jal noted as he emerged in the hallway, and no traps or alarms, either it seems… To the east, the corridor was devoid of doors and other obvious means of egress as far as he could tell, but to the west was another door and a stairway. Standing ajar as it was, the other doorway drew his attention first… As good a place as any to wait in ambush… but his gaze was wont to leave the stairway, too. Not only could there be guards or gods-know-what-else lurking there, too, but that strange wind almost made him want to continue upwards…I could simply cast a fly spell, he thought for a brief instant when his curiosity got the better of him, and allow myself to be pulled up… see what this is… But then he had reached the half-opened door, his cautious gaze drawn sideways to peer into the room beyond.

Jal’s heart leapt and, at the same time, a wave of relief crashed over him. Inside the room, standing at a long table, was Wynter! Without hesitating, or so much as being concerned with what else might be on the otherside of the door, Jal rushed in… The spell works, he thought almost blissfully, noticing how ‘solid’ the girl looked, as if he could wrap his arms around her and actually feel her when he did, I can touch you again and… The spellbinder’s heart didn’t as much sink as it was shot out of the sky. His arms, anticipating a long overdue embrace of his beloved Wynter, passed right through the girl and, had he been in physical form, Jal was certain that tears would be coursing over his cheeks.

“Do you see them, my love,” she asked. He choked down his heartbreak and tried to convince himself that he was happy just to see her again, then, with a weak smile At first, Jal thought her eyes were intent on the strangely stained table – blood and…what is that? – but, as he tore his gaze away from her and truly saw what it was that she wanted him to see, the voices of the two tortured souls screeched in his ears.

“Can you help them, Jal,” Wynter pleaded, “Please, make them stop screaming!”

The anguish of the two spirits was incredible and, like Jal himself in this form, seemed to be held here but still being pulled towards whatever it was higher in the tower that called to them. Both men were stretched thin across the floor of the room, held to the ground by what appeared to be tree roots, and yet, each time that summoning wind gusted, they strained to break free and float upwards, wailing at the pain of it, perhaps, or at the torture of restisting it… Could he free them? It felt strange to be on this side of things, he realized, and he wasn’t even sure if his magic would work properly if he cast spells as a wraith. A magic missile volley may very well sever real roots but what of these ghostly kind? If he dismissed the spell and became corporeal again, would the roots still be there so that he might sever them with hs dagger? Would being freed of the bonds that held them to the earth even be the solution for these spirits… did they want to answer the strange summons? More importantly, would it be wise to release them even if they did?

As Jal deliberated upon what to do… even finding himself wishing that he wasn’t alone and that one of the others were here to help… he came to the realization that Wynter didn’t seem to be affected by that odd, summoning vortex… “If I free them, my love,” he said at last, turning his eyes to the girl, “they will only be pulled higher into the tower. Ushered up into Iuz-only-knows what might await… do you not feel it calling, dear girl?”

((OOC: Okay.. first thought was “do what Wynter wants” and free the spirits, but Jal’s not sure that loosing the bonds is wise, for one, and, furthermore, is very curious as to why Wynter doesn’t seem to be affected by the “wind”… Now, I think, Wynter’s reply may determine the next coruse of action for our creepy little spellbinder… I’m also assuming that Jal is unaware of what’s transpiring with Arien and the rest… edits as necessary. ))

Considering the fact that the lot of them were now in the middle of an enemy outpost (even if it was outside the Empire's domain), things are going well. Incredibly well in fact. And Kilgim, despite all his seriousness, is starting to feel good. Perhaps Gwanele's scryings were wron'... Maybe t' ruins only 'ad a couple o' runaway Imps 'idin' from their own an' Dwan's people. Shaking his head sadly once more, the cleric knows his optimistic thoughts are in vain. Gwanele did not error in matters such as this. Nah... t'lass simply doesn't error.
But the good mood lasts a breath or two longer as he watched Jal turn into mist or.. a ghost. The dwarf is watching the mage at work so keenly, that he misses Arien's first words. "... so dark...", is all he catches before the knight goes down with a clatter. One heavy hand shoots for the Blackaxe, drawing it half-ways before Kilgim has even fully turned to see what is going on. His mind is already running through the incantations of a few prayers and adrenalin surges through his body, fully expecting to face a Red or at least a couple of Greens standing over the fallen body of his dear friend.

Instead of the enemy, Kilgim only sees Arien slumped on the floor and the rush passes as quickly as it came only to be replaced by over-powering worry for the knight. "Laddie, what's..", is all he has time to say, before the metal-covered warrior stands up as if nothing had happened. What is this?” He says but his voice sounds odd - higher pitched, “Two places? How odd. Twins? Oh, this is delicious!”

The voice caughts Kilgim's attention immediately and the worry squeezing his heart doubles. Then the gait of the man doubles it. What on earth is goin' on? Arien's eyes pass through each of them with the hunger of child taking in the wonders of the world... It is as if Arien didn't know them... As if they were all new to him. “Men! Oh, it has been so long since I have had men!”

The next sentence turns a couple of cogwheels in the priests head. But before he has time to think clearly Arien staggers again, clutching his head with both hands, "What is ..." and his voice... it sounds.. it sounds like Arien again. "Laddie?", Kilgim asks carefully with his mind still racing through the prayers he has learned.

The bald cleric's eyes widen as the fit takes over the knight again and berserk rage distorts the handsome face as his eyes (were they glowing?) settle on Dapple. “An elf!” he spits with fury. That voice again... The elf part goes past Kilgim's mind as he watches in disbelief how his noble friend charges towards the lad with outstreched hands..

Fortunately for the kid, Char's reflexes are better honed than his own and the rangers launches himself into a beautiful tackle, of which even best of dwarven wrestlers could be proud of, and takes the possessed (for that is what Kilgim assumes) Arien down again. "Kilgim! Da lad's gone a bi' off, no?" Char's words are growled through clenched teeth as he wrestles to keep the knight under control.

"Aye, gone off 'e 'as." Not exactly certain if it it will help or not, Kilgim pulls out a small piece of iron from the depths of his pocket and holds it on his open palm while summoning the powers of his god again. The divine energy shoots through the short stout form and concentrates on the iron rod, lifting it upright on one end. With practiced precision and without any extra moves, Kilgim points the spell's energy at Arien hoping to overcome any resistance and to turn him as stiff as the piece of metal. ((OOC: yeah yeah, I said stiff - Casting Hold Person on Arien))

Not certain of the spells success, Kilgim already has the words of another prayer on the tip of his tongue waiting. Should holding Arien in place work or not, the priest will try to dispell whatever magic it is, that has taken over the knight.

---

OOC: No time to read through. Please forgive any errors and inconsistencies.

Don’t piss off a dragon with nothing to lose
Things went very strange, very fast. Everyone moved to stop the knight from attacking the rogue, but all events leading up to it were so unexpected, it seemed like they were unreal.

Sunset was the first to react. Her previous master had taken from her the usual weapons of the pseudo- dragon, but there was still one weapon that the now dead mage didn’t take away.

In mid-leap, Arien screams in pain and crumbles to the ground in a heap. Dapple winces in pain as well but does not lose consciousness. All others in the room are suddenly hit with a strong mental picture of a woman, resembling Arien, a lovely lady with black tresses that brush her waist and glittering eyes of green. There is a stern disapproving look on her face which is followed by a wave of raw pure emotions (fear, anger, sorrow). Kilgim and Valentine have to stop their spell-casting efforts because of the fervor of the mental attack. Char’s head reels as he grasps Arien and they both crash to the ground. Maximus even takes a step back from the dragonet. More images fill your head, room full of darkness, a green skin demon-like woman hold the lady mage from before in her talons. The images slowly fade away as Sunset regains control of her abilities. All that is left is a yearning for light – a need to get out of darkness.

Char recovers enough to roll Arien over. The man is unconscious but breathing. Valentine sees the magic within the knight fade rapidly away. Sunset hisses at Arien a few more times before retreating back into the folds of Dapple’s cloak.

The ground shakes slightly, a small tremour followed by several weaker ones.

Operating Room
“I am held in this world by a force greater than her.” Wynter answers Jal with a smile, “But if I draw attention, I will…” Wynter stops speaking as if listening to something. She looks scared. Then she fades away again. As she does, Jal hears sounds coming from the other room, where the others are waiting. A woman voice seems to be coming from there, one he hasn’t heard before, and the sound of something metal hitting the ground – then there is the sound of people moving and a loud crash – like a suit of armour being dropped to the floor.

Dm’s note – Valentine did not get far enough into the spell to lose Mana, and Kilgrim didn’t lose any of his prayers either. Only Arien is unconscious, no one else is injured permanently although you may have a lingering fear of black haired spell-casting women.

(OOC: Rewinding my previous post since Alacrity says Sunset won initiative )

Sunset hissed and drew her wing back as if to strike. Dapple’s last coherent thought was a very clear image of a woman lunging to attack her - a woman with-talon like hands and greenish skin. The others may be have been moving to intercede, but Dapple wasn’t conscious of anything but the rage pouring from behind a barrier ripped to shreds in her mind. Angerfearbetrayalloathing hazed her vision with red as she tooks a few steps back from the man she’d once come close to trusting. She seemed to coil into herself, a snake preparing to strike.

That’s when Sunset struck with the only weapon she had left: a mental blast that stopped Arien in his tracks. He screamed with pain and fell, with Char on top of him. Though Dapple wasn’t the target, Sunset’s proximity on her shoulder meant that she got a piece of the vision of Alloryn, magestic in her anger and disapproval of Arien’s behaviour. Dapple hissed in pain at the mental assault (sounding a little like the pseudodragon herself), but the blast had cleared her mind. She wasn’t back in Cumberland Crossing, it was Arien who’d been about to attack her, not Tonno, and she wasn’t going to give into the rage seething through her like molten lava.

Dapple had already half crouched to give her leap more power, and instead she curled protectively around herself and Sunset, who’d retreated into her cloak after giving a few more warning hisses. Dapple ignored the visions being pushed on her as she willed herself into unfeeling calm, pushing the rage and hurt back down deep inside. She touched the cold stone wall and pulled the cold into herself, covering old and new hurts with a fresh layer of ice. When she felt the barrier would hold, she let go of the breath she’d been holding and glanced at the others.

They were gathered around Arien, who still hadn’t moved after falling. Char had rolled him over, and Dapple looked at the white, still face of Alloryn’s twin. “Is…is he alright?” she asked, her voice ragged. She stopped and bit her lips, letting herself worry about Arien.

Sunset poked her head out from where she was hiding and trilled a note of concern. Dapple remembered the feel of the blast and shivered. "Remind me to stay on your good side, little dragon, " she muttered.

As Maximus tried to decipher Arien’s motives and why he would turn on the party, a burst of fierce pain shot through his head almost causing him to fall to the floor. His reaction at first to attack whatever it was causing this pain he could not help but take a step back upon realizing that it was caused by the little dragon.

Then with the pain receding and the dragon once again within the boys clothing Maximus gave it a last glare and turned his attention to the matter of the unconscious knight.

“Char, Kilgrim can either of you do anything to get Arien back to normal, we cannot stay here long, we must move soon.”

With his words spoken and the pain all but gone he could only hope Jal was ok.

“I am held in this world by a force greater than her,” Wynter smiled as she replied to Jal’s question, “But if I draw attention, I will…”

Her? Jal wondered, recalling an earlier warning that Wynter had bestowed on him, Her who? Not Alloryn, I would imagine, given what the others have said of her…
It was then that the urchin-mage realized that Wynter had stopped speaking and was looking about nervously, as if she were suddenly afraid of something. Then, before Jal could ask her anymore, the girl faded away again, leaving him alone with the anguished spirits in the otherwise empty room and loosing a cacophony of sounds from the room where he had left the others…First, an unfamiliar, female voice…Her? Then, what sounded like some sort of struggle, ending with a loud crash just as quickly as it had begun.

Suddenly, given all these things, Jal found himself becoming a bit frightened at what might be going on… Had the others been discovered? Was the entire party revealed? What was this force that summoned the undead to the heights of the tower? Wynter had wanted him to help the two spirits in this room but, at the moment, Jal decided that the safety of his friends in the other room was of greater importance. In fact, as he saw it, those ghosts were much safer where they were at the moment, despite their anguish. If he were to free them from the bonds that held them to the floor, they may very well be called up to serve whatever it was lurking higher up in the keep. “Forgive me,” he whispered to the pair, “I must go… but I will return to help you when I can.” Quickly, before the wraithform spell’s duration had lapsed, Jal rushed back to the room where his compatriots waited (he hoped) and ghosted through the door with a litany of offensive spells rushing through his mind should they be needed.

His anxiety ebbed a little when, on the other side of the door, it looked as if the party was well regardless of the noises he had heard. Most of the party, that is. Arien was sprawled, unconscious on the floor… That explains the crashing sound… and the expressions on the faces of the others was something akin to confusion or perhaps fear.

“What happened here,” the spellbinder asked, after dismissing the wraithform spell, and looking curiously at the others; “From the next room it sounded as if a battle was taking place…Were you attacked? Are we discovered?”

((OOC: Backposts as necessary… assuming that anyone asks, Jal will reveal everything he was able to discover on his recon trip – the table and the tormented spirits in the operating room, his conversation with Wynter, the absence of guards, traps, etc in the corridor beyond, and, of course, that weird summoning wind…))

Brilliant pain, flashes of light behind the eyes, and Char found himself unable to change his trajectory and the solid ridges of Arien’s armor buried themselves into his flash. Setting his jaw against the pain, the ranger wrapped his arms about the knight just as they both hit the ground. The confusion of the mental cacophony he’d just experienced caused Char to go limp when they came to rest, his body draped over his friend’s, but it was a short-lived experience. Shaking his shaggy head, Char pushed himself up on his left arm and knees, then rolled the knight over so that his pale face was peering up at the grimy ceiling. Scanning the man’s face, he witnessed a slight twitch to the cheek, a rolling motion beneath the lids, and he concluded that Arien was still alive.

The sounds of the party about him brought the ranger’s head up and he quickly ascertained the condition of each. Dapple looked shaken, but was otherwise composing herself while the pseudodragon, Sunset, was clawing her way deeper into the little rogue’s cloak. Maximus looked as though he’d just been stuck in a small chest for half a day, and Kilgim appeared to have been ready to pray for divine assistance. Valentine was the only one who looked like he was a little pissed off at the interaction, but they all seemed to be unhurt otherwise.

“Is…is he alright?” Dapple asked, her voice ragged.

“Char, Kilgrim can either of you do anything to get Arien back to normal, we cannot stay here long, we must move soon.” Maximus’ question followed right on the heels of Da’ Moon’s and Char glanced back down to Arien as a result.

Just then, the ranger caught something out of the corner of his eye near the door. A split second later he had an antler-handled knife in hand and ready to throw as Jal materialized. Letting out his breath, he replaced the knife, still hovering over Arien’s inert form.

“What happened here,” the spellbinder asked, after dismissing the wraithform spell, and looking curiously at the others; “From the next room it sounded as if a battle was taking place…Were you attacked? Are we discovered?”

Char shook his head, “Attack’d, sure we be.” He gave Arien a little pat on the cheek. “Don’ know dat i' be some’tin’ I can ‘xplain.”

The ranger stopped his attempt to revive Arien and looked up at Kilgim, “Any’tin’ you know t’ do, frien’? Maximus be righ’ in dat we go’ t’ make t’ move fas’. I wager we be seein’ sum Imps soon enough—“ then, moving aside so that Kilgim could have unhindered access to the knight, Char rose and quickly addressed the others. “Maximus, Valen’ine, watch dat door. Da’ Moon, make sure we ain’t bein’ trapped in ‘ere, please. Jal, wha’ didja see on da udder side?”

(OOC: going to wait for responses before making any other type of decision.)

Dm's Note - I am awaiting some more interaction here, so I am posting what is going on above. If no one (who hasn't already) posts by Wednesday, I will move forward.

The earth shook and Dalmer swayed with the movement. A rage was building up inside of him, a powerful one that made him want to go back up and hack that girl into pieces so that the ….

No. None of that. Get yourself under control.Dalmer ordered himself to calm and looked around at his men busily packing up the essential gear to leave this place in a hurry. I messed this one up good. The emperor will not be pleased
Then it hit him. A flash of imagery and pain. That girl looking disapprovingly at her, but there was more. He reeled back into the waiting arms of Boris behind him. He’s here! The Knight from my dreams! Looking up at Boris, he realized that only he caught that flash.

“Boris! Take Wind’s warriors and two men downstairs immediately. We have company. One of them is a Knight, in armour with a flaming sword. I want him dead Boris. Dead! Dead! Dead! Bring me his head do you hear me!”

“Yes Sir!” Boris saluted, drew his two handed sword from his back and immediately took off to the basement.

“Boris!!! Two men!” He held up his fingers to make it easy. “And the green guys!” Dalmer shook his head. Boris nodded and ran off to collect a party.

His left arm ached with a dull pain and he longed to kill someone or something. No, it longed to kill him, and he knew it. The arm wanted the knight’s body. I’m still in command of you he willed towards it, you will obey me or I will cut you off and bury you back in the hole you came from.
He thought things out desperately. It was still night time and dark outside…maybe this wouldn’t be a total loss. If he could control her, then she'd be his weapon too. If not,then the party sent to intercept them meant the Iron League knew of them. Good. Let’s see how many she slaughters once daylight comes.

With her emotions (and those fed to her by Sunset) back under lock and key, Dapple was able to focus on the tasks at hand. Like Char, she started when Jal materialized through the door, but was able to contain any visible reaction. When the tattered mage asked about Arien, Char responded, but Dapple felt the mage owed as much as an explanation as they could give. The attack was arcane, and Valentine, as usual was keeping his own counsel, but perhaps there was something Jal could do to help Kilgim.

"We were waiting for you when Arien didn't seem himself," Dapple explained in a low voice, watching Kilgim and Arien out of the corner of her eye." He seemed to stagger, and when he recovered, it was like he was a woman ... a very odd one. For some reason, he moved to attack me, and well, never piss off a pseudodragon," she concluded.

"Sunset picks up stuff from people, and I got the impression of a green scaled woman when Sunset was glaring at Arien," Dapple shivered and her voice dropped lower. "We had some odd things happen with "possessions" and such in our last job for the Iron League, and it did not end well. I'd give a year's take to Wee Jas to avoid that ever happening again!" She paused a moment, her gaze haunted, then she shook it off, bringing cold grey eyes up to look determinedly into Jal's.

"Tell me about the lay of it beyond the door, and I'll set up watch out there. We can't all sit here like pigs in a poke waiting the butcher." (OOC: Am assuming Jal would share what he say, since Eol said he would

Dapple listened carefully to Jal's description, then with a nod of thanks, she moved towards the door. Catching Char's eye as they hovered around Arien, Dapple tilted her head towards the door, silently indicating that she'd keep watch as Char had ordered. With Char's nod in return, she slipped through the door and was gone.

Dapple crouched low in whatever shadows she could find, knowing that keeping out of line of sight would keep her hidden for that fraction of time longer. She crept towards the door and stairway, listening intently. Her intention is to reach the door, and shelter behind it to be hidden, but listen for any approach down the stairs.

“Attack’d, sure we be,” Char had answered, “Don’ know dat i' be some’tin’ I can ‘xplain.” The ranger’s actions at that point led Jal to believe, for some reason, that the party had been attacked by Arien himself, though, and that little bit of information he found quite disconcerting, especially in light of the magical energy he had felt while in his ghostly form. By way of explanations (and by his own admition of not being sure how to reason it out), though, Char had very little else to offer. In fact, he seemed more concerned with Jal’s report on what might be on the other side of the door. After speaking with Kilgrim in regards to Arien’s current state, the man asked; “…Jal, wha’ didja see on da udder side?”

The spellbinder blinked… he had been pondering over what he could recall about possession and any spells or creatures of arcane or extra-planar nature he might have known that could do such things and wasn’t quite prepared to answer. “I…” he spluttered, suddenly finding himself trying to piece the words together he would need to explain everything he’d seen an experienced, “I…”

It was then, much to Jal’s surprise, that Dapple spoke up to offer a more detailed account of what had transpired in his absence. When the lad actually spoke to him, Jal arced a curious brow…Is this, perhaps, a bit of trust, then? Not what I would have expected given what I’ve learned of you thus far, Dapple Moon…… but listened intently to what the rogue had to say.

“We were waiting for you when Arien didn't seem himself,” Dapple explained in a low voice, watching Kilgim and Arien out of the corner of her eye. “He seemed to stagger, and when he recovered, it was like he was a woman ... a very odd one. For some reason, he moved to attack me, and well, never piss off a pseudodragon.

Sunset picks up stuff from people, and I got the impression of a green scaled woman when Sunset was glaring at Arien,” Dapple shivered and his voice dropped lower. “We had some odd things happen with "possessions" and such in our last job for the Iron League, and it did not end well. I'd give a year's take to Wee Jas to avoid that ever happening again!” He paused a moment, his gaze haunted, then he shook it off, bringing cold grey eyes up to look determinedly into Jal's.

Jal was smiling faintly and nodded in affirmation of the pseudodragon’s capabilities. The smile wasn’t by any means a mirthful one, though. From what he’d just heard and from the snippets of knowledge that he had where possessions and dominate person spells were concerned, the happenings in this room had given the party away at best and, at worst, had possibly sealed their fates already. “We should prepare for the worst, then,” the spellbinder offered, “unless whatever it was that borrowed Sir Thedell was rendered impotent by Sunset’s attack, it would be foolish to think that our presence here has been reported to someone…or something…”

"Tell me about the lay of it beyond the door,” Dapple requested, “and I'll set up watch out there. We can't all sit here like pigs in a poke waiting the butcher.”

“Oh,” Jal nodded, suddenly remembering that he, indeed, was the only one who knew what lay beyond the doorway, “of course…” For the benefit of Dapple and the others who might’ve been more concerned with the physical layout of the rooms and corridors beyond the door, Jal started with a detailed description of everything he had seen, recalling approximate dimesions and precise directional placements, and the fact that he had seen nothing of traps or any posted guards; “After what has transpired here, though, I wouldn’t guess that guards or worse aren’t being dispatched.”

“More curious than what there was to see, though,” Jal continued almost hesitatntly, “was what there was to be felt. From the moment my spell took hold and I took on the form of a wraith, I felt an almost irresistible pull… like something calling me to the upper levels of the tower. Consciously, I had no desire to answer that summons, but I feel that, had I been closer to the source, I may not have been able to resist…”

((OOC: Jal will proceed from here, relating the “not so physical happenings” that had occurred beyond the door, including encountering Wynter and the other two spirits (who he will admit he left in the Operating Room, thinking it better that they suffer where they are for the time rather than being released to answer that summons)… He will also offer to accompany Dapple into the corridor and offer up any magic that may be useful… Invisibility for the rogue, webbing the stairway door, lobbing fireballs at anything that may come down them, etc… At the moment, he doesn’t think there is anything he can do to help Arien (the possessing spirit is already gone, thus a dispel magic casting would be wasteful… all that can be done now is to ensure his safety until he comes around… etc))

Such pain. It felt like someone was sticking needles into Kilgim's brain... through his eyes and ears - out, from the inside. The dwarven warrior was accustomed to pain and carried innumerable scars to prove it. But this time was totally different. It was like a bad headache on a day after... except it wasn't. Nothing had ever hurt his head so much. And the fact that it broke his spell casting certainly did not make things any easier.

The mental attack passed as suddenly as it started and Kiglim realized it couldn't have lasted for more than a few heartbeats. As he opened his eyes (surprised that he had closed them in the first place), the cleric saw Char rolling Arien over. The ranger was breathing heavily, but the soldier's breathing was quiet and calm, as if he was sleeping.

“Char, Kilgrim can either of you do anything to get Arien back to normal, we cannot stay here long, we must move soon.” The dwarf thought he heard true concern behind the huge man's words. But his reply was cut short by Jal's sudden reappearance.

“What happened here,” the spellbinder asked, after dismissing the wraithform spell, and looking curiously at the others; “From the next room it sounded as if a battle was taking place…Were you attacked? Are we discovered?”

Char shook his head, “Attack’d, sure we be.” He gave Arien a little pat on the cheek. “Don’ know dat i' be some’tin’ I can ‘xplain.”

The ranger stopped his attempt to revive Arien and looked up at Kilgim, “Any’tin’ you know t’ do, frien’? Maximus be righ’ in dat we go’ t’ make t’ move fas’. I wager we be seein’ sum Imps soon enough—“

As was his habit, Kilgim remained silent as the others spoke. He didn't wish to interrupt and on the other hand always wanted to hear what those he considered friends, had to say. Despite the fairly ferocious outer shell, there was a surprisingly soft heart beating inside the dwarf.

The exchange between Dapple and Jal passed on in the background, but the bald priest let most of it go by without notice. He knew he could trust the lad to deal with the situation and to take in everything the mage had to say about the room beyond the rusty door. His own concerns were elsewhere right now... Arien was still lying on the floor unconscious and Kilgim wasn't at all sure he could do anything about it.

It seemed that whatever magic it was, that had taken over the knight so easily, was now gone or at least had lost its grip on the senseless man. Kilgim knew his options were few. He was not a master healer and even as a battle cleric, his skills were limited. Normal curing would not help, neither was Arien under the influence of any poisons nor crippled by a disease.

Shaking his head sadly, the dwarf knelt beside his friend and touched the man's cheek softly. "Sorry lad, but there's nothin' me can do to 'elp ye now. We'll get ye back 'ome an' ye'll be just fine. But we'll find yer dear sister first. So 'ang on, laddie. 'ang on."

With Jal returned and his telling of what lay ahead Maximas did move as he had been told to cover the door.

The big Fighter knew that it was only a matter of minutes before combat would ensue and trying to hold this small room was folly. But with his sword to hand and a fake grin on his face he would not leave anyone to fend for themselves....

"This is about to get extremely... dangerous" Adrian Valentine finally muttered, after the others had finished trying to figure out what happened and he moved into his designated position.

"There are those in the Empire, and assuming we are dealing with Imperials, whom practice arcana that have the power to command those of weaker wills (he aims his gaze at the direction of Arien, pausing a minute to study his aura and make sure nothing is awry) into doing their bidding, even if it means killing oneself of one's allies."

He looks to Maximus, who was obviously uncomfortable.

"It is ok, I abandoned that pathway years ago. Powers of compulsion simply no longer respond to my calling, even if I willed it. I traded them in for this blade," as he lifts the large glassteel sword and relaxes it, "in fact that, coupled with the fact I was always able to resist their charms, unlike our friend here, is the primary source of conflict between my former affiliates and myself."

Looking back to the rest of the group, noting they still had a very heavily armored problem in front of them.

"But... what bothers me is this area. The smell, the sensation of lights, and the iota of mana fluttering around, and now the pull that Jal reported. It could be the source of our friendly witch's power... or a product of it."

Valentine sighed, knowing that what he said next would not be popular.

"We ought to take Arien outside. He is only in danger here. Worse yet, he is vulnerable, as we all have seen, to the powers of our magic hostess. I would not like to risk getting attacked from behind by our own ally. Killer can watch over him, of course. My familiar and I share a natural bond and can communicate over vast distances. Of course, if you wish added protection, perhaps our dragonet would like to play the role of guard as well?"

Maximas listened as the Red intoned about what could have possibly been the cause of Arien's attacking the party.

Not one of magic he was very uncomfortable around it and more so with the fact that they had a former Imperial in the party with knowledge of it. In the end though he did have to agree if Arien was a danger to them then it was best he be placed outside.

“If that is what is decided I will carry him outside as I can carry him easily myself and thus temporally we will only have the loss of two rather then three.”

Awaiting the parties choice Maximas remained still by the door.....

Char thinned his lips as he quickly considered the feedback he'd received, both directly and indirectly. Kilgim wasn't able to do anything for Arien and as much as he hated to admit it, Valentine was right; they couldn't trust to Arien to be himself if--no, when--he woke up, and there was likely to be trouble real soon.

"No," Char said with a slight shake of his shaggy mane. "Maximus'll stay 'ere. Need dat swordarm a' ready. Kilgim, Valen'ine, place da lad 'ere in da tunnel. Da' Moon need be seein' if'n Sunset'll watch o'er 'im 'till we return. Valen'ine, we migh' be needin' Killer's skills da furder we go on."

Char slipped his crooked swords from their sheathes at his waist in a fluid motion and gave a final nod. "Be quick 'bout i' folks. I tink Valen'ine be righ' dat der be trouble righ' soon."

That said, the ranger moved to the door. "Donna tink der be much need t' be worried 'bout quie' now, eh Da' Moon?" The adrenaline that course through one's body when you anticipate danger was already beginning to flow and Char felt more than a little roguish as he wagged his eyebrows at the thief. "I say you an' da spellbin'er 'ere see if'n some o' dat invisibili'y 'e worked on ya 'fore now can git us a li'l peak a' wot lies ahead."